by Casi McLean
“Me too.” She poured two creams into her coffee then stirred the contents. “As you can imagine, Alyssa and I were extremely close. I’m numb, and…I’m sorry. Words can’t explain my emotion. Perhaps if you tell me what happened?”
“I wish I knew more, Miss Rose––”
“Please, call me Emily. Until I get to the bottom of my sister’s death, you’ll be seeing a lot of me.” She sipped her coffee.
Ash leaned back in his chair. “Right. Like I said, I know very little so far and I don’t want to speak with nothing more than conjecture. We only discovered her yesterday morning, after an anonymous jogger called 911. Parked in front of Georgetown University, I was the closest detective.” He watched her reaction, hoping to get a feel for how to proceed. Instead, he found himself lost in her emerald green eyes. “I…I got lucky with a print inside of her locket.” He clenched his jaw. Stick to the damn script, Ash. “Did your sister have any recent confrontations or mention anything of concern?”
Emily grasped the locket around her neck. “Wyatt gave us both a locket when he was deployed. Lyssa never took hers off.” A slight smile tugged at her lips. “No. She didn’t mention anything, but for the last few weeks she seemed a bit agitated. I asked her why, and she said things were hectic at work with the elections coming up.” She rubbed her fingers between her brows. “I knew something was bothering her but figured she’d tell me when she was ready. We had no secrets. Maybe I should have pressed her.”
“The first reaction family and friends of a victim feel is often guilt, but the emotion is typically unfounded.” He reached for the carafe on the table. “Do you mind if I pour a cup?”
“Of course not. I’m sorry, I should have offered.” She reached for the accompaniments. “Cream or sugar?” Her gaze flashed on her half-eaten breakfast then back at Ash. “The buffet has a wonderful selection if you’re hungry.”
He smiled. Courteous even under tragic circumstances. Classy woman. “No thanks. I’m good. So, did you recently visit Alyssa? Do you know any of her friends? What did she do when she wasn’t working?”
The barrage of questions continued until Ash had a damn good picture of who his victim was and what her life looked like. An intern for Senator Winfield, she set her sights for a career in politics and worked twenty-four seven to achieve her goal. At first, Ash shrugged off the victim’s ties to Capitol Hill as coincidence, but according to Emily, her sister’s patriotism ran deep––especially lately with her Marine Vet brother, Wyatt, rooting her on. If Alyssa noticed anything less than patriotic, she would keep her eyes open and ears tuned in to any shifty behavior or unusual activity.
The month prior to her murder, Emily claimed Alyssa felt disenchanted with political divisiveness. She worried about a group compiled of bipartisan politicians dedicated to a Mason-like secret society who undermined the government.
“You mean like a shadow government?”
“Don’t look at me with such skepticism.” Emily glowered. “As a detective, you of all people must realize things aren’t always as they appear.
“The proof is in the evidence.” He took a sip of his steamy coffee.
“True, but what if the evidence was planted…or tainted?” Her glare shot daggers. “My brother’s position placed him into top-secret missions, and he saw, firsthand, what goes on behind the scenes of our government. He’d never betray his country or compromise his security status. But what he could divulge to Lyssa and me convinced us to pursue our respective careers.”
Ash pinched his brow.
“Alyssa and I grew up with a strong sense of ethical integrity, and our career choices fall into the same ballpark. We just cover separate bases.” Her gaze turned cold and lowered to the ground. “Or at least we did.”
The mere thought of how Emily’s life must have shattered with the news of Alyssa’s death knotted his stomach. He wished he could soften the blow. Perhaps showing interest in this shadow government she seemed so passionate about would help distract her mind from the devastating sorrow she had to be feeling. “I never paid much attention to politics. I figured one person couldn’t really make a difference…or maybe I assumed the Congress and the President bound by the Constitution held up checks and balances that protected democracy.”
Emily’s gaze lifted to meet his and her eyes went wide. “Exactly. Most people believe the same thing. Don’t you see how that blind belief opens the door for corruption? A shadow government wouldn’t just magically appear. But what if decades ago a small group of global elites, fed by greed and power, planted seeds in the government? It’s not a stretch to believe sleeper cells could, over time, influence high-ranking officials.” She sucked in a deep breath as if she needed the air to recharge. “And what if those few snakes created intense divisiveness, pitting Democrats against Republicans? It’s possible a non-partisan shadow government could strike from within, targeting the core of American democracy…and spread dissent like an infectious airborne virus.”
The notion sounded like a wild conspiracy theory…and yet, Ash knew how corporate corruption transformed innocent people into white-collar criminals. Why would the government be any different? Greed and power created strange bedfellows. A chill gripped the base of his neck, causing tiny hairs to stand on end. He brushed his hand over the gooseflesh. “So, you think Alyssa’s death is somehow connected to a shadow government?”
She bit at the corner of her bottom lip. “Why not? Alyssa delivered mail on Capitol Hill and could have easily stumbled upon a random message she wasn’t supposed to see. If so, she would have followed the lead.” Emily’s gaze narrowed and dropped to a vacant stare. “I can think of no other reason Alyssa would have avoided sharing her situation. She trusted Wyatt and me…but she was way too smart to compromise herself––or her family. The last time we spoke, I could tell something was wrong. But I never dreamed her situation threatened her life.”
After talking with Emily for over an hour, Ash felt like he knew Alyssa. And the more he learned about his victim, the more captivated he became with her sister. Emily’s smile made his pulse race, and when she parted those soft pink lips a tingle shot through his groin. But beyond incredible physical attraction, he admired her conviction.
So far, only a handful of people knew about Alyssa Rose––all of whom Ash trusted with his life. His high school buddy and Medical Examiner, Quint Brannon, and Brad Miller, a college fraternity brother who happened to be the case’s forensic photographer. They knew Ash well enough to trust his judgment with few questions…even if he devised a plan based on a theory that fell within the realm of the absurd.
Ash now pondered such a plan. One that spun a dangerous web of deceit, but he needed a bit more time to let the premise percolate. The FBI’s ability to swoop in and take over his cases irritated Ash. That alone pushed him farther into the wild scheme congealing within his thoughts. As far-fetched as Emily’s story sounded, corruption would explain why the FBI immediately red-flagged Alyssa’s murder only hours after her body surfaced…and why they forbid the MPD to interrogate anyone aside from immediate family. When they ordered Quint to hold-off signing Alyssa’s death certificate and requested he stymie media coverage, Ash and Quint agreed something smelled like a cover-up.
The idea Ash might pull off a sting to ensnare corrupt federal officials gone rogue thrilled him. He glanced at Emily and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know you, but for some reason I’m inclined to trust you. Your wild theory would answer a lot of inexplicable incidents I’ve run across over the course of my career.” He paused and watched for a reaction, but her stare only displayed intensity. “I’m willing to stake my job on a dangerous proposal if you’re game.” He clasped his hands on the table. “My question is…how far would you go to find Alyssa’s murderer?”
Chapter Seven
The question stunned her. Why did she confide in this man? Despite his striking dark sable hair and silver-blue eyes mesmerizing her, she knew nothing about him. Blindly trusting a stranger c
ould have cost Alyssa her life, but if Emily didn’t join forces with this detective, would she have any chance of finding Alyssa’s murderer with Wyatt as her only ally? This detective had access to far more information then Emily at the moment and he knew the lay of the land, too. That alone made him the ideal partner. To expose the killer, Emily had to follow every lead, and who aside from the detective assigned to her sister’s case would share details of the murder?
Besides, Detective Frasier displayed that look the moment his eyes met hers––the one that signaled he felt an immediate physical attraction. She eyed him briefly, considering her own allure and a latent tingle quivered between her thighs. Worse things could happen than to be saddled with a hot Dick. A warm heat flushed her cheeks as she considered the double-entendre and she glanced away to douse the spark. Feeling guilty about acknowledging a slight attraction to this complete stranger, she drew her thoughts back to Alyssa.
Emily couldn’t help but wonder if she’d taken more seriously her sister’s edginess, she might have prevented Alyssa’s death…in truth, probably not. But she damn sure wouldn’t allow Lyssa’s murder to be an unsolved mystery shoved into a cold case file or written off as some random act. Working with Detective Frasier was her best bet to discover the truth.
The more Emily ruminated the more she realized she trusted this man the moment she shared her shadow government theory. What did she have to lose…aside from the obvious––her life? A chill ran down her back. Her sister died and, regardless of the cost, Emily would do anything to find the killer and make them pay. “If you can lure Alyssa’s murderer with my help, I’m in.”
His deep smile crinkled his eyes. “Then we have a lot of work ahead and precious little time.” He stood and offered his hand. “Let’s go, Miss Rose.”
“Please, Detective. It’s Emily, remember?” She grasped his arm and stood.
“We’ll see about that.” He raised an eyebrow and the corners of his lips curled faintly.
Emily’s instincts rarely steered her in the wrong direction and right now they told her Detective Frasier had an idea worth considering. After a series of phone calls, his strategy solidified and even though Emily only heard one side of the conversations, she quickly understood the rules of the game as well as the price of losing.
She touched his hand as she glanced at her watch. “Shouldn’t we head to the Morgue or the Coroner’s office?”
Pressing End, he lowered his phone and faced her. “Yeah, about that. For my money, one look at you confirmed your sister’s identity.” He rubbed his chin. “I have to talk to Quint…the medical examiner. But I’m not sure you want seared into your memory the vision of your sister in a morgue.”
She pinched her lips together. “I get what you’re saying, but I need to see her. I’ll be fine.”
“It’s up to you.” He shoved his chair to the table. “I guess from my calls you surmised what my plan entails?”
“She nodded.”
“Assuming Alyssa’s identity won’t be easy…and I can’t even fathom the potential danger, but you certainly are the spitting image of your sister. Has anyone ever mistaken you for Alyssa or vice versa?”
“Almost everyone. Even my parents had trouble from time to time.” Emily smiled remembering how much fun she and Lyssa had fooling people. “Not Wyatt, though. He always knew who was who.”
“Hmm, then I believe we could pull off a switch.”
Emily shook her head. “I think Alyssa would approve. Let’s do this. You drive. We can discuss details on the way to the morgue.” Reaching for her purse and sweater, she pushed in the chair with her hip then walked toward the exit. “How do you suggest we un-murder my sister, Detective Frasier?” Her body stiffened as the thought of taking her sister’s place squeezed her chest. Forcing back the sensation, she picked up her stride.
“First off, call me Ash. We’ll be working together…very closely, so we should be on a first name basis and closer if my plan is going to work.” Holding open the lobby door, he breathed in deeply.
She turned and eyed him, raising a brow. “How close?”
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Intimately.”
Emily frowned and flattened her lips.
He offered a modest shrug as they approached a deep metallic-gray Audi. He pressed a remote and the locks popped. “Let me get that.” Opening the door for Emily, he stood back allowing her to climb into the sedan. “If we do this, I want to be near you at all times to protect you. We could pretend I’m a boyfriend or fiancé.” He closed the door then strode around and slid into the driver’s seat. “I can finagle a position in Alyssa’s office building, and you’ll wear a wire…at all times and everywhere. I’ll make sure our team has eyes and ears on you wherever possible. Are you with me so far?”
“What team?” Emily squinted.
“I’ve got connections in high places. You let me worry about our team. I just want to be sure you are okay with the plan.”
“I told you I was in, but my brother has to be part of this. He’ll be here tomorrow.” She laced her fingers and tilted her head back.
“Got it. Big brother, Wyatt, will be on the team. Anyone else?” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Only Wyatt.” She gazed at him. “But how the hell will you hide Alyssa’s murder? And even if you succeed, you are aware I don’t know the people she works with, right? It’s doubtful I could pull off showing up for her job on Capitol Hill. I wouldn’t last long enough to get a cup of coffee…perhaps I should have reservations about your plan.”
He frowned. “O ye of little faith.” Switching the gears, he pulled out of the Marriott parking lot onto the highway. “Trust me. My plan will work. The 911 call came in at 6:30 a.m. from a jogger, so we know of one person who saw your sister…or at least saw something. I was parked on the Georgetown Campus, following up on a case, so I got to the crime scene within minutes. No one else was there. Brad, the forensic photographer, and Quint, the Coroner, arrived ten or fifteen minutes later. Aside from Quint’s assistants, we were the only ones who saw your sister.”
“What difference does that make? I just––”
Releasing his right hand from the steering wheel, he splayed his fingers in a stop gesture, and cast a quick gaze in her direction. “Stay with me. I haven’t had time to turn in my report yet, but somehow, the FBI got wind of Alyssa’s death. I thought it odd when they contacted me and said they’d be taking over the case. Why would the FBI be interested in a routine murder…and how did they even know the event took place?” He turned briefly toward Emily as if waiting for a reaction. “That’s why your theory made sense. The only other person who knew about Alyssa’s death was the murderer––unless someone hired the killer. If the FBI knew, then the hit came from someone connected inside the FBI.”
Emily widened her eyes then glared at Ash. “Damn. You’re right. Someone connected enough to implement a cover-up.”
He nodded. “Right. But what if, when we pulled your sister out of the water, Quint revived her. That water is cold this time of year. A lower temperature could stop a heartbeat, but many people have recovered after their heart stopped. Especially after having spent time underwater at cold temperatures.”
Emily shivered at the thought of the cold water lapping over her sister. “At least twenty-four hours have passed since then with no correction announced. Surely, someone would have heard about her death.”
He nodded. “Right…unless she was unconscious and brought to the hospital under a Jane Doe identity.” He glanced at Emily. “Like I said, I’ve been a detective for a while and have a few contacts in prime positions.”
She pinched her brows together and pooched her lips. “Okay. But how can I help find Lyssa’s killer when I’m sitting in a hospital bed?”
He pulled onto E Street SW then parked in front of the Washington DC Medical Examiner’s building. “With any luck, you won’t have to go farther. Whoever wanted your sister gone would want her to stay that wa
y. Once her office gets wind of her accident and they know what hospital received her, our perp will come to us.” He unbuckled his seat belt. “You in or not? I have to know now. Timing is crucial for this plan to succeed.”
She shrugged, while a brigade of ants burst through the base of her neck and crawled relentlessly over her entire body. “I…I guess so.”
Ash reached over and grabbed her left hand. “I’m sorry to put you through this, Emily. But I truly think this plan is the best way to uncover what happened. I promise, I’ll be with you as much as possible, and when I’m not, I’ll have eyes on you.”
Emily dug her fingernails into her right palm to diffuse the wave of anxiety still clenching her stomach. “I’ve played Alyssa almost as much as I’ve been myself. I’m not worried about the plan. I’m just dealing with what happened as best I can.” She released her safety belt and opened the door. “Let’s go convince the Medical Examiner.”
Once out of the Audi, Ash took her hand and squeezed. “You ready?”
Emily took two long breaths and whooshed them out then nodded. Walking through the building felt surreal, as if she drifted in a dream. God, how she wished she could wake up and have Alyssa beside her. But that situation wouldn’t happen. Now, all she could do to help her sister was to find the killers and make them pay.
The Deep State had to be responsible for Alyssa’s death. She was too conscientious to fall victim to a random robber or street crime. Besides, from what Emily learned so far, the evidence appeared too nefarious to be another Washington DC statistic. She couldn’t wait until Wyatt arrived, though he might not agree with her decision to impersonate Lyssa. She’d call him once Ash had his plan in place. Glancing at him, she wondered what meeting him under other circumstances might have been like. His thick dark hair made his steel-blue eyes sultry. Again, a stab of guilt jabbed her for feeling an attraction.